‘There too,’ answers his companion, who, save for his drooping fair moustache would better deserve to be called a ‘pretty maid.’  ’Mabel has a small party on, and I promised to drop in, we may as well go together.’

Paul Ponsonby is decidedly handsome; tall, fair, of almost a feminine complexion, and with blue eyes of a very sad expression.  He is a great favourite with the female sex and many a mother longs to have him for a son-in-law, remembering that he has plenty of money, and only three people between him and an earldom; but he has no intention of marrying, there being ‘a just cause and impediment’ why he should not.

But by this time our friends have reached their destination, and ascend the staircase to the strains of distant music.

‘Mabel,’ otherwise Mrs Seaton, is standing on the landing and greets them both eagerly.

‘So glad you’ve come,’ says she, ’but I didn’t expect you, Mr Dalrymple, and now you’re here you must make yourself useful, your mission in life at the present moment, Paul,’ she adds, turning to her brother, ’is to go and amuse Philippa, poor child, I’m afraid she feels rather out of it, but I haven’t time to attend to her now.  She’s near the window, the old Professor was talking to her a few minutes ago—­’

‘Very well,’ says Paul, moving towards the well filled drawing-room; the music has ceased and everyone is talking at once.  He pauses for a second in the doorway and glances round the room, bowing to two or three people, then making his way to the window holds out his hand to a girl who is looking decidedly ennuyee.

‘How do you do, Mr Ponsonby,’ she says in a clear sweet voice, ’I’m so glad you’ve come, don’t you know the feeling of loneliness that comes over one in a crowd of unknown people, and I’ve been here all the afternoon feeling dreadfully cross, and have wished myself back again in Switzerland about twenty times.  It’s rather a bad beginning,’ she adds, with a little laugh—­

‘Feeling cross, do you mean?’ asks he, ’I often think it does one a great deal of good to be cross.  I wish Mrs Grundy didn’t come between us and the carpet, it would be so delightful to sprawl full length on it and roar; I remember I used to derive a great deal of comfort in it in the days of my youth.’

‘I suppose that was a long time ago,’ says she, mischievously—­

‘Yes, of course, almost centuries—­but where’s Teddy?’

‘Gone out for a walk,’ replied Philippa, ‘isn’t he a dear little boy?’

Paul Ponsonby laughs and says, ’I I think him rather the enfant terrible, but I suppose women are naturally fond of children, even taken as a whole; it does not matter much what they are like taken singly.’

Some one has begun to sing and Philippa does not answer, but when the song is finished, she asks the name of an old lady who is sitting on the sofa at the farther end of the room.